


not broken just bent

by Miralana



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Age Difference, Emotional Manipulation, M/M, Religious Guilt, Somebody Lives/Not Everyone Dies, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Trauma, Unhealthy Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-28
Updated: 2016-11-28
Packaged: 2018-09-02 22:19:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,493
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8685511
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miralana/pseuds/Miralana
Summary: His mother had always said that soulmates are something that only happen to those, who are cursed by a witch. Credence has known for years that the name on his skin is only there to pull him away from the light and into a life full of witchcraft and misery. But when he meets Mr Graves, it isn't at all like his mother told him. Instead, there is something odd about the connection between them. Something that doesn't feel right.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Polski available: [not broken just bent PL](https://archiveofourown.org/works/9096796) by [rossieash](https://archiveofourown.org/users/rossieash/pseuds/rossieash)



> special thanks to [elena](http://erskinravel.tumblr.com/), who managed to read this fic for me when i doubted myself, even though she doesn't care about credence and doesn't ship gradence. it wouldn't be here without her.

For years the only thing Credence has been able to remember of his mama, is that she had a name on the back of her hand. He had been too young to read it and she had never told him what it said, but he remembers it. He remembers it because when he saw another person with a name years later, his new mother pulled him along and told him all about the magic of witches and what they do to good people. He hadn’t understood it back then, but he could never forget that some people had names.

 

When Credence turns sixteen, a name appears on his back. He doesn’t notice it at first. His Ma taught him that soulmates are nothing more than the witches work to distract god-fearing folk from their work. It’s a way for a witch to make someone their slave and bend them to their will. It’s how they got to his mama and killed her, Mother says sometimes.

So he doesn’t care, even if he looks at his body sometimes, trying to figure out if he hasn’t been cursed by them or if he just can’t see it, because it’s somewhere on his back. He’s not curious enough to look for it, though. Somehow it feels like Ma will know if he does. He spends months without knowing if there is something on his body.

 

When his Ma beats him one evening and Chastity helps him clean up, she pulls off his shirt gently. When he slips out of the sleeves, she suddenly goes silent, her idle chatter dying out.

“Chastity?” he asks her, but she runs out of the room before he can get an answer out of her.

When she returns with Ma, they forcibly turn him around.

“Did you know?!” She sounds scandalized. Disgusted.

He’s confused. He doesn’t know why she’s yelling at him.

“You’re cursed. You’ve been bewitched. We need to burn it out of you.”

It. A name. The witches gave him a soulmate.

“Put the iron into the fire,” his mother orders and for the first time in his life Credence gets up and backs away from her.

There is a feeling inside of him. Something that hadn’t been there before. He feels protective of the name, even though he doesn’t know who wants to make him do their will.

“I don’t want to.”

“Credence, listen to me. They will send someone to seduce you. Away from us, from god. You’ll be left alone on the streets, dying and wasting away. That’s what having a soulmate does to you.”

He shakes his head. “I won’t go with them.” He won’t. But he also won’t let them take it away. If there is someone out there, who wants him, he’ll take it, even if the consequences are dire.

Mother and Chastity look at each other. Credence is sure that they could overpower him, but he also knows that Mother hates nothing more than her children not obeying her orders of her own free will.

“You will change your mind,” she promises him. It sounds like a threat.

 

They take the other children away from him. Chastity says mother doesn’t want them to be infected as well. Only Modesty stays, but Mother has always said that Modesty is wicked.

 

She begs him to show her the name and after a few weeks Credence gives him. He opens his shirt and lets her pull it down on his shoulder to take a peek.

“Huh.”

“What?”

“I didn’t know boys could have boy’s names on their skin.”

 

This night he nearly begs Ma to take the iron to his skin.

 

He doesn’t want to know the name, doesn’t want to associate anyone with it, but when he’s eighteen he breaks and asks Modesty to tell him. She stares at him with her dead eyes and asks him what he’ll give her for it.

Credence agrees to take her leaflets for the day and the ghost of a smile appears on her face.

“Percival Graves,” she whispers into his ear, before she runs off happily, finally free for one day.

 

Not many people tell them him their name and Credence doesn’t ask them. He flinches at every Percy and tries to pretend not to hear anything. Mother watches him every time, a sinister smile on her face.

 

Over the years Credence tries not to think about it. He forces the name down deep inside of him and rebuffs any of Modesty’s attempts to talk about it.

 

He tells himself that it’s better this way.

 

It isn’t.

 

When he is twenty-three a witch tries to take him. Or that is what Mother screams, when she appears in the hallway, while Credence is getting punished. His mother screams and screams, but the witch merely attacks her with something his mother told him is a wand. She doesn’t try to take him away, she doesn’t try to make him follow her wicked ways. She smiles at him, gives him her hand to help him up.

Credence nearly takes it. In the end he cowers on the floor.

The witch goes to his mother and points her wand at her head and for a moment he wishes she would kill her. Instead she looks up again.

“Don’t tell anyone. She won’t remember. I’ll try to come back and put an end to this.”

 

He doesn’t see her again for a long time. Ma doesn’t remember when she wakes up.

 

Life goes back to normal. Handing out flyers, not getting enough to eat, sleeping on the floor and the beatings every evening.

 

Only a month after the witch a man appears at their gatherings. Credence notices him because he’s supposed to notice anyone new, and tell Ma and Chastity about it. He also notices because the man doesn’t look like he belongs here. While his suit looks expensive, it’s different… There is something it that looks like it doesn’t fit in with all the other people.

Credence follows him with his eyes, as he walks around the group gathered around his mother. He’s drawn to his figure by something he can’t explain. Their gazes cross for a moment and his breath catches. When he loses him it happens from one moment to the other.

 

The man appears again and again. Sometimes Credence notices him right away, sometimes only when he leaves. His reaction is never as strong as when he saw him the first time.

 

When he finally talks to him, it’s not a good day. His hands are cut and bruised from his last punishment and he’s shivering in the cold, when the man appears in front of him.

“You’re with the Second Salemers aren’t you?” he asks and Credence nods. It’s not their official name, but people don’t care about that.

“Tell me about them.”

So he does, not willing to anger Mother. Somehow she always knows.

When he is done, the man looks at him with polite interest. “And do you believe that witches exist?”

“I do, sir, they’re responsible for all the evil in the world, and they’re planning to take over our world.” If it sounds rehearsed it does because it is.

The man chuckles coldly. “If all witches are evil,” he takes Credence hand. The contact is foreign, but not special. “How could I do this?”

Credence watches with horror as his bruises disappear and leave only unmarked skin. He’s shaking. He’s talking to a witch. Again.

“What’s your name?” His mother says that witches can curse you when they know their name. But Credence has already been cursed hasn’t he?

“C-Credence Barebone,” he stutters. The man nods.

“I’m Percival Graves.”

Credence feels like he can’t breathe. His mother was right. The witch whose name is on his skin has come to take him away.

But instead of taking him somewhere, the witch lets go of his hand. Credence expects it to have some kind of reaction now that he knows that this is his soulmate, but he feels just like he did before.

“I might come around more often, there is something only you can help me with. You’ll keep this to yourself, won’t you?” It sounds threatening, so Credence nods.

The witch nods at him at disappears into thin air.

 

This night Ma looks at him and lets the belt come down on his back again and again. He’s not sure how many times she hits the name. But he doesn’t care.

 

He expects to feel different, every time he sees Mr Graves – as he’s supposed to call him – but there’s nothing special to it. Mr Graves is friendly and he always heals Credence, but he doesn’t do all the things his mother warned him about. He doesn’t try to seduce him, doesn’t try to teach him witchcraft or make him curse the lord’s name. Doesn’t try to make him hurt humans and turn him into a mindless slave. He just asks for help.

 

Credence has of course heard about the attacks in the city, knows that his mother thinks it’s a witch. Now he knows that the witches think it’s one too. One that lives in close proximity of his mother. Credence knows that she would kill anyone who turned out to be one, so he agrees to help, if only Mr Graves comes back again and again.

He’s still waiting for some sign.

 

The sign doesn’t come.

 

Or maybe it does, because Credence knows that people aren’t supposed to touch other people like this. Mr Graves isn’t supposed to put his hand on Credence’s cheek, or his waist. He isn’t supposed to brush his lips against Credence’s ear and tell him how much better his life could be, if he could just do what he’s been tasked with.

These feelings that he has, have to come from them being soulmates. From him being cursed to match with a witch. He can’t explain it any other way and he doesn’t want to. If this is what his mother has warned him off, then he’ll gladly Mr Graves seduce him away from god. The terrible feeling inside of him disappears as soon as he’s around Mr Graves and for the first time in forever, he feels like the future might not be bleak and grey.

 

Mr Graves tells him about the wizarding world whenever Credence can cross another child from the list. Sometimes he feels like a dog getting a treat for a well-done trick, but he soaks up all the knowledge like a thirsty man in a desert. He listens closely as Mr Graves explains the difference between witches and wizards, tells him about laws, about a school and rolls his eyes at something called the magical congress.

Sometimes Credence feels like Mr Graves is doing exactly what his Ma warned him about all those years ago, but he doesn’t care.

 

When Mr Graves gives him the pendant Credence nearly stops breathing. He’s still waiting for all the things Mother warned him about, but having Mr Graves so close, his hands on his skin, the weight of _his_ necklace around Credence’s neck, he realises that it must be as close as someone like him could get to being seduced by a wizard.

But for the first time in a long time – maybe even forever – he feels like he belongs somewhere. Maybe this is what his mother feels when she talks about the church, or what other people feel when they talk about politics. But for Credence it is the presence of Mr Graves, which is the only thing that makes sense. It’s the only good thing he’s ever been able to call his own.

 

That is until everything goes south. Credence doesn’t remember how it happens. He remembers thinking about the child, about Mr Graves, about what he can do when he is finally free and then there is nothing.

When he comes back to himself, his mother is dead. His sister is afraid. Deep down he knows that it was him, that he is the monster Mr Graves has been looking for all this time. He still calls for him, still needs his presence around him to calm him down. They go after Modesty, and Credence is shaking with fear and pain.

When Mr Graves can’t get a word out of him, he slaps him and for the first time in all these months that they’ve known each other, Mr Graves sleeve pulls back. His gaze is tearstained, but he can still make out the end of a name deeply ingrained into Mr Graves’ wrist.

_ledore_

He tries to breathe. Tries to come up with some explanation for this. Had it all been a trick? Has this been done to him, so that he would help Mr Graves? Has Mr Graves played with him all these months? Maybe his mother had been right all along and soulmates were just there to seduce people to their side. And Credence had fallen for it like a fool.

The condescension in his tone, when he throws Credence away is the last thing he realises, before he lets the darkness overcome him.

 

He doesn’t know what happens next. He hears his name shouted, sometimes he even sees something in front of him, but for the most part it’s dark around him. The pain is unbearable and he just wants it to disappear. He wants _him_ to disappear. He doesn’t want to feel anything ever again.

 

He’s on the floor when everything around him has calmed down. His mouth tastes of iron and he feels tired. He wants to die.

“Credence!” the witch who saved him all those months ago runs towards him, kneels down at his side and turns him around. “Everything is going to be alright. You’re not in danger anymore.”

Credence looks around. He thinks they might be in a subway station, but the roof above them is destroyed.

“He’s completely and utterly harmless, don’t worry,” someone else says and Credence remembers him as one of the voices he heard. A tall, lanky, red-headed English man with a floating ball of black fog stands behind the witch.

“Don’t worry, I’ve extracted the Obscurus from you. You still have your own magic left, or most of it, I hope, never done this with anyone who was alive afterwards.”

Credence doesn’t know what his magic feels like, but he knows that he doesn’t want it. He wants nothing to do with all of this after what had happened. He just wants to go home and sleep on the floor and get beaten with the belt.

“We’re bringing you to the hospital, don’t worry, you’re going to be fine,” the witch says and Credence feels himself lose consciousness.

The last thing he sees is white hair behind the two of them and someone kneeling on the floor.

 

He spends a week in the weird magical hospital before they release him. The witch, Tina and her sister Queenie pick him up and tell him that he’s going to live with them until the Macusa has cleared him – he doesn’t know what that is and he doesn’t know what it means, but he is still certain that the doesn’t want any part of it.

He plans to run away as fast as he can, but finds that Queenie is particularly good at realising when he’s thinking about it. It takes him a week to figure out that she can read his mind.

“Don’t try to suppress your thoughts, honey,” she says from the kitchen and Credence flinches.

“I can’t help reading your mind, but I won’t embarrass you, don’t worry.”

Credence doesn’t answer her. Instead, he pulls the blanket they gave him over his head. If he can’t see her, maybe he can ignore her.

 

He wakes screaming on one night, when it’s just Queenie and him. The urge to destroy is there in him, but this time he doesn’t have any power to back it up with. He lies on the couch panting, hating, loving Mr Graves and he wants to cry. He pulls his arm over his eyes when Queenie enters. She sits down on the couch and puts a hand on his knee.

“Are you alright, sweetheart?”

He doesn’t answer. He wishes he could get over this feeling of betrayal, but he can’t. If he had just listened to his Ma, he wouldn’t be broken.

“What Grindelwald did to you wasn’t your fault.”

Credence flinches.

“He knew how to get close to you and he used you. Far greater wizards than you and me have been fooled by him, don’t worry.”

He takes a deep breath.

“Who is Grindelwald?”

Queenie remains silent. When Credence takes his arm away from his eyes, she seems worried.

“We didn’t want to tell you because you’ve been through enough… Gellert Grindelwald is a dark wizard from Europe. He’s a murderer and a war-monger. A few months back he disappeared from Europe and the whole world looked from him. We found him a few weeks ago, in the disguise of Mr Graves.”

Credence remains silent.

“But don’t worry, he can’t harm you here, the best of the best are taking care of him.”

“So the person I met wasn’t Mr Graves?”

“No, honey. As far as we’re aware, Mr Graves was attacked by Grindelwald, who then took his form. You know, Grinde-“

“So he’s dead?”

“Mr Graves? Oh no, they found him when they searched through Grindelwald’s hiding plots. Beaten and bloody, with bones broken so bad they might take a while to heal again, even with magic.”

So the man Credence thought was his soulmate, wasn’t his soulmate after all. And the man who is his soulmate is still out there. If soulmates exist. If it’s not some ghost-story his mother came up with. If it doesn’t mean that Credence is just a freak with a name on his back.

“All witches and wizards have them,” Queenie says, her voice gentle and soothing. “Sometimes even No-Maj’s, if their soulmate is a wizard, but things like that are really rare.” She winks at him.

Credence doesn’t know how he feels about it. So he isn’t a freak after all. So there is someone out there for him. Someone who isn’t this Grindelwald man who had used Credence for his own selfish plans.

“Oh!” Queenie claps. “Let me tell you about my soulmate, you’d love him. He’s a baker and he makes these wonderful-“

Queenie rambles on and on and while Credence doesn’t particularly care about the man, he realises that she’s telling him something much more important.

Her soulmate is one of those non-wizards who have a mark. And while they cannot be together now because of something Credence doesn’t understand, she visits him all the time and sometimes he looks at her like he remembers.

And if Queenie can someday be happy with a non-wizard, then Credence can learn to accept his own fate.

 

A week after his conversation with Queenie Tina takes him to the Magical Congress – and finally explains what the name Macusa means – for an evaluation. The woman that evaluates him is young, with a bright look in her eyes that makes him uncomfortable. She asks him questions about his time with Ma and his meetings with Mr Gr- with Grindelwald and Credence answers them as best as he can. She doesn’t get angry when he takes time to answer, or when he don’t look at her. She asks him how he feels and for a second he thinks he should lie. But then he remembers Queenie and he’s smart enough to realise that she’s not the only one of her kind. Ma would probably hate the thought of witches and wizards being able to read minds.

He tells her honestly that he doesn’t want to be here, that he wants to go home and have nothing to do with the magical world. She tells him, that they can’t let him go until he learns magic.

He needs to learn to control and harness it, in order to not use it. In order for it not to become volatile.

He asks her how long it will take and she smiles sadly at him and explains, that children go to the magical school for years.

And even though Credence just thought of himself as smart enough, he knows that it’ll probably take him at least the same time, if not longer.

 

It’s Tina, who goes wand-shopping with him. They don’t buy anything else, because both she and Queenie still have their books and because they know that Credence doesn’t want to learn about potions or all of the other things they talk about that don’t make any sense to him.

They let him practice at dinner under supervision and tell him as much magical history as they remember.

When Credence has to go to the Macusa with Tina every morning, he knows a bit more and the old man who is supposed to tutor him during the day remarks on his fast progress.

Maybe… maybe he’ll be able to get out of this sooner than he thinks.

 

He doesn’t ask Tina where they’re going, when she takes his hand and Apparates. The procedure wakes painful memories in him, memories that he tries to repress – even though everyone says it’s not good, but he can’t deal with them. They come out in a small alley and Credence grips Queenie’s hand. She looks over her shoulder and gives him a reassuring smile. When they walk out on the streets seconds later Credence relaxes.

Queenie pulls him into a bakery and for a moment he is frozen by the smell and the looks of the baked goods. He has never been allowed to go into such a place and now that he is, he knows that he doesn’t belong here.

“What do you want? It’s my treat!” She walks around the shop excited and Credence follows her immediately.

“I don’t want anything,” he says and Queenie looks at him.

“I insist.”

“I insist too, you have to tast-“

“You’re back,” a voice behind them says and Queenie turns around as fast as if she Apparated. Credence takes one look at the man, his moustache, his apron and realises that this is Queenie’s soulmate. The baker. The baker’s eyes go from her to him and Credence isn’t good at reading people, but he thinks there might be disappointment in there.

“I just had to show my cousin your shop.”

The baker brightens up. “A cousin of yours, is a cousin of mine.”

Queenie laughs too loud and even Credence finds himself smiling at that. A second later he half expects his Mother to come around the corner to reprimand them both for embarrassing her in public, but no one comes and hurts him.

They leave half an hour later with two bags of baked goods. Queenie smiles the whole way and Credence? Credence can’t believe how simply seeing her soulmate can make her so happy.

He doesn’t if it’s because it’s them or if that’s because that’s how it is supposed to be with soulmates, but he envies her.

 

Tina has to stay late at work the whole week, so he and Queenie eat alone and she lets him practice some easy charms that he has never done before. When he manages to have the plates wash themselves without smashing them and sees Queenie’s happy smile he thinks that maybe being a wizard isn’t that bad.

 

“I don’t know if I can take you back today,” Tina says when she brings them into the Macusa this morning.

“Just tell us and I’ll stay longer, don’t worry about it.”

He feels bad that they have to arrange their day around him, but every time he insists that he can wait for Tina to finish, they both get offended. He doesn’t know what they see in him, but he’s been taught that this is not normal behaviour.

Tina thanks Queenie, who leaves them at the entrance and they both make their way to the elevators.

Tina leaves the elevator before he does, so she turns around to him when she gets out, saying goodbye for the day, when the noise of a cane clanking against the floor stops her.

“You’re late,” a voice so familiar to Credence that he could recognise it everywhere says. He doesn’t see the person it belongs to before the doors close and he is thankful for it.

He doesn’t know what he would do if he met Percival Graves again.

 

“Are you okay?” Queenie asks in the evening and Credence shrugs. He hasn’t been able to concentrate on anything else than the thought of Mr Graves being in the building.

“We didn’t know that he was coming back today, we would have warned you otherwise.”

Credence shrugs again and goes back to eating.

 

Queenie picks him up, just like she has done the past two weeks. Tina has been working late for every evening, even going in when she’s supposed to have a day off. Credence doesn’t know why, because no one tells him anything, but he knows that Queenie is angry about it.

“Let’s –“ Queenie stops and turns around. “Please give me a second.”

He follows her as she walks and heard the clank of the cane before he sees the man.

“Is there a reason why the Director of Magical Law Enforcement is leaving on time, while his Aurors are doing over-time every day?” Queenie accuses Mr Graves and Credence moves closer to them carefully. He’s so close that he can now take a look at Mr Graves. He doesn’t look that different from before, apart from the cane on which he’s leaning and a scar running down from his temple to his jaw. He looks tired and Credence can’t take his eyes off him. It’s like the first time he’s seen him and he doesn’t know why.

“Miss Goldstein, your sister is doing over-time out of her own free will.” His mouth remains open for a second as he looks over Queenie’s shoulder and Credence suddenly feels small as his eyes bore himself into him. Then Mr Graves shakes his head and looks back at Queenie. “You’re free to take your sister home. Whatever she wants to prove, she already has.”

He keeps walking as if Queenie isn’t there, but keeps getting slower the closer he gets to Credence.

“And who are you?” Mr Graves asks and Credence swallows. He doesn’t know what is happening, but now that he’s standing close to him, he’s not afraid of him anymore, can’t even associate Grindelwald with him anymore, because the feeling he has while looking at him is so fundamentally different, that he doesn’t know why he didn’t figure it out before. Mr Graves eyes widen and if Credence wouldn’t have known better, he would say that recognition flashes up in them.

“He’s no one,” Queenie says and grabs his hand. “Good day, Mr Graves.”

She pulls Credence with her. When he turns his head Mr Graves is still looking at him, a thoughtful look on his face.

 

“I’m sorry,” Queenie says later, when Tina is in the shower. “I just… there is a reason why no one noticed the difference between Grindelwald and Graves.”

“What do you mean?” he asks her. He doesn’t understand.

“The man you met all those months ago? That wasn’t just Grindelwald wearing Graves’ face. That was Grindelwald emulating Graves’ personality good enough to fool the entire Magical Congress. People who had worked with him for years.”

“You’re saying he’d treat me the same?”

Queenie sighs. “I’m saying you need to be careful.”

 

Credence tries to be careful, tries to do everything the right way, just like Queenie said, but now that he’s seen his real soulmate and felt how different the reaction actually is, he can’t stop thinking about it. And he must not be the only one, because it takes Mr Graves less than two days to summon him to his office.

Credence swallows before he knocks, the door opening on its own. Mr Graves is sitting behind a large desk, reading through a report. Credence remains standing in front of the chair, not daring to sit without being allowed to and examines the differences between the two men.

Besides the scar he can’t find any. There not a single hair out of place on Mr Graves’ head and his suit is as immaculate as always. The only difference is, that Credence has never seen him without the coat and the scarf. Both are hanging next to the door. A suit jacket is draped over the back of his chair, leaving him only in a white shirt and a black waistcoat. Credence dares to look down at his wrist, but the sleeves are down. He can’t see if the different name was a Grindelwald-thing.

“Please sit,” Mr Graves says after about a minute of awkward standing and Credence follows as soon as he can. He sits down, his back a bit hunched, his knees pressed together. He doesn’t know what he’s doing here and he finds it hard to care.

Finally, Mr Graves puts the paper aside and sighs.

“I need to apologise to you,” he says and Credence raises his eyebrows in confusion.

Apologise?

“For what?” he asks.

“I’ve heard what has been done to you. I-“

“That’s not your fault!” Credence interrupts him and then blushes. He wants to cower into himself, to hide, to shield himself from the punishment, that will surely come, but Mr Graves just snorts and leans back. For the first time since Credence has entered the room, Mr Graves looks at him and he swallows, not sure how to react when his dark eyes trap him in their gaze.

“I do think I made him aware of your presence after the first time. Nonetheless, you’ve been hurt by someone who has been wearing my face, so I wanted to assure you that no harm will come to you. Grindelwald has been dealt with for the time being, so you’re save.”

Credence nods along to what he’s saying, only realising when he’s finished what he just heard.

“What do you mean by the first time?”

“When I watched the meeting. You were, uh well watching me…” Mr Graves trails off and now Credence really feels his face go red.

“So that was you? And the other times?”

Shaking his head, Mr Graves leans forward, his hands intertwined on the table. His wrist is still completely covered.

“Sadly, after that it wasn’t me you were speaking to.”

He nods. It makes sense. Everything that had happened made sense now.

“It felt different. When it was him,” he admits and sees Mr Graves lips twitch into a smile. He must be glad to hear that and somehow the thought alone spreads warmth within Credence’s body.

“I hope you’ll let me make up for it. It must have been… confusing and hurtful. So anything you want, you just tell me, right?”

Credence asks himself what Mr Graves would give him. How much. There is nothing Credence wants, apart from knowing…

“Can I see it?” he needs to know. Needs to know if it’s true, if it’s really his name on there. If there is one person in the world just for him.

Mr Graves seems surprised, but unfolds his hands. “Of course.”

He opens the first button on his waistcoat and unties his tie. Credence looks away when he realises that Mr Graves is going to open his shirt. Somehow he expected the mark to on his friend, just like it had been with Grindelwald.

He looks up again, when Mr Graves pulls the right side of his shirt aside, revealing a dark patch of hair and there, right above his collarbone.

Credence swallows.

That’s his name. On another person’s skin.

Only when Mr Graves raises an eyebrow does he realise that his hand is stretched out.

“I-I’m…” he stutters and Mr Graves smiles. “No go, I don’t mind.” Credence leans forward on his chair and touches the skin above the mark.

It’s like a tiny bolt of lightning goes through him and for a second he can’t breathe. Mr Graves Adam’s apple bobs and when his hand touches Credence’s they’re both shaking a little bit.

Mr Graves takes his hand and guides his fingers over the name, stroking each curve of every letter with care.

He must have done it a million times, Credence realises and he swallows. He doesn’t even look at it. _He’s just looking at me._

This is what had been missing from the fake Graves. This is what Queenie feels every time she looks at the baker. This is what his Mother had warned him about.

And when Mr Graves intertwines their fingers and strokes a thumb over the back of his hand, Credence feels like he can finally breathe freely.

 

**Author's Note:**

> as always follow me on [tumblr](http://everknowing.tumblr.com/) if you want.


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